


Loneliness is a cloak you wear

by smallvictories



Category: Better Call Saul (TV), Breaking Bad
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Felching, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Panic Attacks, Porn with Feelings, Pseudo-Incest, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallvictories/pseuds/smallvictories
Summary: Stacey asks Mike for a favour. He's never been able to say no to her.
Relationships: Mike Ehrmantraut/Stacey Ehrmantraut
Comments: 15
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

"It looks like your compressor coils are too dusty." He says, sitting up and wiping his brow. "Got a rag I can use?"

Stacey reaches into the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink and tosses him a worn cloth. He catches it and leans back down to clean the coils. He stands up and slides the fridge back into place with a grunt. He's glad it's probably a simple fix. Needing to buy a new fridge is the last thing Stacey needs.

"Is that it?" Stacey asks, a smile spreading on her face. "I don't need to get it repaired?"

"Here's hoping." He returns her smile. "If it still won't get cold enough, let me know and I'll take another look."

"Thanks Mike." Stacey takes the dirty rag from him and drops it in the sink with a sigh of relief. "After Kaylee took a mouthful of yogurt gone bad for the second time, I was worried I'd have to buy a new fridge."

"Poor baby." He chuckles. "What'd she think about that?"

Stacey rolls her eyes and exhales. "She gave me an earful. _Mom, why do you keep buying gross yogurt?_ "

He laughs. It’s nice to talk to Stacey like this.

"Would it be alright to say good night? I'll be quiet." It's nearly 10pm. Kaylee must be in bed by now.

"Oh, she's at a sleepover." Stacey grins, swelling with pride.

"That's wonderful." He leans back against the counter with relief. "So, she's getting along? Making friends?"

Stacey lets out a breath. "Yes, and not a minute too soon."

Mike hums in agreement and studies a ripple in the linoleum floor. Kaylee's been having a hard time. She still doesn't really get it. It's hard to grasp at that age that you'll never see your dad again.

The silence lingering between them grows overlong. Stacey fusses with her wedding ring. She catches him staring and smiles sadly.

"I took it off at first." She explains while inspecting her fingers. "But it didn't help, so I put it back on."

A familiar sorrow creeps up on him. He wishes she wouldn't bring Matty up so often, but he’d never ask her to stop. If it helps her to talk, she should talk, and he should listen. It's the least he can do.

"Do whatever you need to do, sweetheart." He says comfortingly.

"Leaving it on doesn't help either." She murmurs and wrings her hands.

It strikes him how worn out she looks. Older than her years. Her eyes wander the kitchen and stop on the kettle. 

"I'm going to make tea, want some?" She grabs the kettle from beside the sink and starts filling it.

"Sure, honey. Thanks." He's not much of a tea drinker, but something warm would be nice.

"Is chamomile okay?"

"Whatever you're having is fine with me."

He didn't want to impose, but if she's offering, he'll take her up on it. There's nothing waiting for him at home but a beer and the tv.

"Go on ahead, Pop. I'll bring it to you."

He does and not long after, she joins him on the couch with two steaming mugs of tea.

"I've been meaning to ask you." Stacey stares into her mug and dunks her teabag. "Um, but it might be too personal."

"It's okay." He tries to sip his tea just to have something to do with his hands, but it's too hot.

"How did you get by after Betty died?" She clasps her hands in her lap and he can see her in his peripheral, watching.

He stiffens up and sets his mug down on the coffee table.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about this. Matty didn’t either."

It's hard to talk about Betts. He's buried a lot of it by now. Digging it up won’t make his life any easier, but Stacey is going through something similar and he owes it to her to do everything he can to help.

"I don't think I did get by, not for a while there anyways." He picks up his mug again and blows over it gently. Tendrils of vapour swirl wildly and scatter into nothingness.

"It was a drunk driver?" Stacey asks softly.

"Yep." He hopes the questions will stop there.

Stacey spins her wedding ring around her finger. He resists the urge to clap his hand over hers.

She sighs shakily. "I don't think I've gotten a good night's sleep since he died."

His heart aches for her. He knows what it’s like to struggle, only sleeping a few hours at a time for months on end. He turns to her and searches for something reassuring to say, but it all feels like a lie.

"I've never been so lonely in my life." Her voice trembles and her eyes shine, like she's on the verge of tears.

He doesn’t want her to cry, he wants to fix this.

"Have you thought about joining a club or something, maybe meet some people?" He feels like an idiot. As though some club is going to fix this. Nothing can fix this.

"No, I mean…" She laces her fingers together and looks away. "I hate being alone at night. I miss being held."

He raises his eyebrows. _Oh_. This isn't a conversation he expected them to have. He clears his throat and pushes down an impulse to flee. He scrambles for what to say until she mercifully fills the silence.

"I thought, maybe I could try dating? But I don't think I'm ready for that." She shakes her head and takes another sip of tea. "Between work and taking care of Kaylee, when am I going to find time for that?"

"I'm sorry." He sets his mug down. His hands shake slightly, and he balls them into fists against his thighs.

She turns away with a sigh. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't put all this on you."

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'm lonely too."

He's not sure why he makes such a personal admission. He certainly didn't intend to. It just slipped out. Stacey smiles sadly and a tear escapes the corner of her eye.

"I’ve spent so much time worrying about Kaylee lately that I’ve barely thought about how you're doing.” She dabs away her tears with her sleeve. “I'm sorry, Mike."

He wasn't looking for sympathy. Time to stamp that out.

"That's what you should be doing. I'll be fine." He rubs her shoulder comfortingly. "Take care of Kaylee. Take care of yourself."

She hugs him suddenly. He awkwardly puts his arms around her and realizes how small she is. He likes it. She squeezes him tighter and he allows himself a little sigh of relief. It's nice to be hugged. He doesn't get a lot of hugs.

"It's late." He pulls away and feels empty the moment she lets go.

"Yeah." She sniffs and wipes her eyes with the heel of her palm. "Thanks again for your help with the fridge."

"Anytime, Stace." He stands up and stretches with a groan. "Well, I'd better go."

As he turns to head for the front door, she grabs his sleeve.

"Mike?"

"Hm?"

"I want to ask you for a favour, but you don’t have to do it."

He hesitates. She keeps throwing curveballs at him tonight.

"I'm here whenever you need me." He says evenly. "What is it?"

She bites her lip and looks at the floor. She almost looks ashamed.

"Would you stay with me tonight?" She asks quietly, so quietly he finds himself leaning forward to hear her words.

"Sure." He agrees, relieved that it’s a simple request. "I'll take the couch and keep an eye on things, if it'll make you feel better."

Stacey takes a big breath and looks him in the eye.

"No, I meant _with_ me." She drops her gaze to her mug and fiddles with the string on her teabag. "Just until I fall asleep."

He rubs his hand tiredly over his face, dumbfounded. There's no reason to read into this. She probably gets scared at night when there's sounds outside or whatever. He'll stay with her and she'll be asleep in no time, then he'll leave. Easy.

"I can do that." He replies gruffly.

She smiles up at him brightly and his heart flutters. He doesn't know what to make of that, so he puts it on the backburner to be examined at a later date.

"Thanks, Mike." She gets up and takes the mugs from the coffee table to the kitchen.

He hangs back, watching and waiting.

"I'm going to bed now, I'm exhausted." Stacey says with a yawn when she returns.

He nods and she smiles appreciatively before she walks away. As soon as she disappears down the hall, he exhales noisily. What has he gotten himself into?


	2. Chapter 2

He waits for her in bed and stares at the ceiling. He's nervous to the point of annoying himself. It's ridiculous that something so simple as sharing a bed can work him up this badly. He'll keep an eye on her while she falls asleep, probably in 30 minutes tops, he'll be out of here. No need to overthink this.

He startles when the bathroom door opens in the hall. Stacey enters the bedroom wearing a long white nightgown, nearly down to her ankles, her hair spilling over her shoulders. She's beautiful. He's not sure where that thought comes from and he quashes it immediately. He flicks his eyes back to the ceiling to avoid gawking and folds his hands on his chest.

He turns his head just enough to watch as she slides into bed next to him and his heart starts to race when her nightgown rides up her thigh. His ears get hot and he turns away in embarrassment until she's situated under the covers. He's not too comfortable in his jeans and collared shirt, but it's better than the alternative. Besides, he won't be here long.

She turns out the lamp. This is better. He'd rather not see her. His reaction to seeing her thigh wasn't one he expected, but then again, he hasn't slept in a bed with someone in a long time. That must be all this is about. It doesn't mean anything. 

He feels around behind him to make sure he doesn't fall off the bed and shifts back to put as much distance between them as he can.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you hold me, please?" Even in a whisper, he can hear the tight anxiousness in her voice.

He clears his throat. Okay, he can do this. If this is what she needs to feel better and get some sleep, who is he to turn her down? He owes her that much.

He shifts closer until he feels the heat coming off her body and reaches out carefully. He touches her arm, and she moves back into him. She grabs him and guides his hand to her belly. His pulse thrums in his ears, so loud he worries she might hear it. She adjusts her head and her hair tumbles over his face before hitting the pillow. It smells like oranges and vanilla.

He keeps his hand stiff, hovering rather than touching her. She shifts backward against him, pressing her ass into his groin. He exhales shakily. This isn't gonna work. He can't risk anything developing down there.

She grabs his hand and flattens it against her belly. He desperately tries not to move a muscle and keep his breathing slow and steady. Her belly rises and falls under his hand, warm and soft through the thin silk of her nightgown. He cautiously moves his thumb in a gentle circle around her navel. She inhales sharply and presses back into him.

He wills himself to stop, but his racing mind isn't helping. He wants to press against her and put his face in her hair, maybe slide his hand down between her thighs. Okay, that's enough.

He grabs one of the pillows from underneath his head and shoves it between them to block his groin. Mercifully, she doesn't say anything, not about the pillow, or his too-quick breaths against her neck. He rests his hand rigidly on her shoulder and waits for her to fall asleep.

* * *

He wakes up in the dark, utterly disoriented. There's a weight on the left side of his body and hot breath on his neck. He remembers he's with Stacey. _Sonofabitch._ He fell asleep. His eyes are drawn to the clock radio on the nightstand beside him. It's just after 1am. The room is stifling. He wipes sweat from his forehead and gingerly begins to slide Stacey's arm off his chest

She stirs and mumbles. "What?"

"I fell asleep. I'm sorry, I'm gonna go." He says quickly and shifts away.

She grasps his arm and he pauses. It's so nice to be touched. He doesn't want to think about that, but he's too tired to rein his thoughts in.

"Why not just stay?" She leans over him to check the time. "It's late."

He gently pulls her hand from his arm, hoping she'll get the message.

"Gimme a sec." He sits up and pushes off the blanket. "I'm sweating like crazy here."

Stacey touches his shoulder.

"No wonder you're warm." She scoffs good-naturedly. "You can take off your shirt and jeans. Just relax and go back to sleep."

He should leave right now. He _is_ exhausted though, and sleep sounds like a great idea. He unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off with relief. He pulls off his jeans too. He sits there in just his boxers and undershirt and shakes his head at how weak he is.

He studies the dark shape beside him for a moment. Even with his eyes adjusted to the darkness, it's still too dark to tell if she's watching him or not. He faces away and lays down on his side with a rough exhale.

The bed shakes gently and Stacey lightly touches his arm. She leans her forehead between his shoulder blades and slides her hand down his body, stopping to rest on his belly. His face flushes and he's grateful for the darkness. He struggles not to react as her breasts press against him through the thin fabric of his undershirt.

She moves her hand in a slow circle over his belly, making his breath hitch. She slides her hand up to his chest and squeezes him tightly. He sighs. He's not used to this. Being held. Being loved. But this can't go on.

"I'm too warm for this." He says, groaning inwardly at the tremble in his voice. It's the only excuse he can think of to avoid addressing the elephant in the room.

"Okay." He feels her move away from him.

Before he has a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, her hands are on his back, working into him firmly. She massages a knot in his lower back, and it hurts, but god, it feels nice just to be touched. He holds back a groan. He wants to melt into her hands, but he _can't._ He frowns and sets his jaw. This is too much. Time to put his foot down. He flips over to face her.

"I don't know what you're—"

He's cut off by Stacey's mouth against his. Her hands frame his face and pull him in desperately. Once the initial shock passes, he's shocked again to find himself responding to it. He cups the back of her head and moans into her mouth as she massages his tongue with her own. There's no way to backpedal from this. No way to pretend he doesn't want her.

His brain starts screaming at him, _stop this now before it goes any further,_ but he pointedly ignores his own advice right up until she hooks her leg over him and rolls her hips into his crotch.

He grabs her wrists firmly and pushes her away. He's so mixed up, aroused and angry at the same time. He takes a moment to centre himself, panting roughly. Her breath comes in quick, soft puffs against his lips.

"We _can't_ do this." He says sternly at full volume. Whispering feels too intimate.

Stacey whimpers softly and sniffs. Of course, she's going to cry. Why make this easy on him? His heart breaks. How desperate she must be to go after his wrinkly old ass.

"I'm so sorry." She sobs. "God, what's _wrong with me?"_

She's so distraught. He can't handle all this emotion. It's making him want to cry too. He releases her wrists and pats her awkwardly on the shoulder. He turns on the lamp to check on her. She covers her face. Maybe the light's too bright, or maybe she wants to hide from him.

She lays stiffly and weeps quietly into her hands. He can't let her think she's a freak for this. That wouldn't be fair.

"There's nothing wrong with you." He murmurs.

She trembles and sobs harder. He can't stand to watch her cry.

Maybe deep down, he's a piece of shit. Someone wants him and he can't pass up the opportunity. Maybe he loves her, and he blames himself for her pain. Whatever the reason, before he can stop himself, he leans in and gently pries her hands from her face. She looks at him in teary-eyed confusion, and her eyes flick down to his lips. Her mouth opens slightly, and he watches her tongue dart out to wet her lips. A little thrill of arousal shoots up the base of his spine and he closes the gap between them.

Just like that, the dying embers are fanned, and the flames grow too high, too fast. She's kissing him back, moaning softly into his mouth. He groans and balls his hands into fists against his chest, afraid of where he'll put them if given half a chance. Her hands delicately clasp his fists and squeeze them.

When she moves her leg and hooks it over his hip again, he doesn't push her away. His hands unfurl and he urgently grabs her thigh and pulls her against him. She breaks the kiss, and he sucks in a deep breath, lightheaded. She pushes him onto his back, and he doesn't resist. He feels drunk. He wishes he were. He'd give anything for an excuse right now.

She climbs over him and straddles his hips. She splays her hands over his chest and rocks against his groin. When she leans forward and her hair hangs down in his face, his panting sends the strands dancing back and forth. She's gorgeous, but he's not supposed to notice, and he's certainly not supposed to act on it.

He's getting an erection, but he can't help it. He can practically feel his cock sliding between her lips through the thin barrier of their clothing. Even through the fabric, he's completely enveloped in the heat coming off her. He clutches at the bedsheets and swallows a moan. He knows it's wrong, but he wants to move with her. He wants to move inside her, touch her, taste her. His cock throbs and a low groan escapes his lips. He regrets it immediately and freezes up.

She opens her eyes and smiles but when she notices him white-knuckling the sheets her brow creases with concern. She stops moving and leans down further to kiss him. Her small hands cradle his jaw and caress him, smooth skin against stubble.

"Just this once." Stacey pleads.

He can't even begin to form the word _no_. He knows this isn't love. She can't love him, not this way. But if she wants this, he can't deny her. He'll do whatever she asks.

"You're sure?" He loosens his grip on the sheets.

She nods and runs her hands over his chest. He cautiously slides his hands beneath her nightgown and holds her bare knees. He exhales and tries uselessly to loosen up. Stacey slips her hands under his shirt and cards her fingers through the hair on his belly. A tightness builds in his chest and throat. He closes his eyes.

It's been so long since he's been with someone like this. He's so frayed and raw, she sears him every place she touches. His face grows hot and a lump rises in his throat. He's on the edge of tears. He clears his throat and wills himself through it. If he breaks down now, she'll stop, and he needs this.

She grabs his hands and places them on her breasts. If this is the only time they're going to do this, he wants to enjoy it. He sits up and thumbs her hard nipples through the soft silk of her nightgown. She closes her eyes and leans forward into his touch, whining quietly.

While her eyes are closed, he takes the opportunity to let his eyes roam over her. The nightgown isn't quite opaque, and he can just make out the darkened skin of her areolas. He continues to fondle her with both hands, humming with satisfaction when she arches her back and moans softly. With every sound she makes, he becomes more conscious of the way his erection strains its confines.

She opens her eyes and smiles, and his heart thumps louder in his ears.

"I want to see you." She tugs at the hem of his undershirt. "Please?"

He nods his head. No point being shy anymore. She pulls his shirt off and trails her fingertips over his chest. She continues downward and hooks the waistband of his boxers. They awkwardly tug them off together and his cock springs up proudly between them.

He can feel her eyes on him, but he can't handle eye contact right now. He grips her legs and pushes the nightgown up her thighs, revealing simple white cotton panties. She's already soaked through them. He runs the tip of his index finger between her lips through the wet cotton and curses under his breath. His cock twitches, heavy with want.

It happens so fast. She pushes him flat on his back and pulls her nightgown off over her head. He almost asks her to stop, but she moves too quickly. She tugs off her panties too. He balls his fists in the bedsheets, overwhelmed as he takes in her body. She's beautiful, more beautiful than he ever imagined (and he hates to admit, he _has_ imagined).

She's completely naked. They're _both_ completely naked. _Jesus Christ_. He groans up at the ceiling and tries to calm himself.

She straddles him and wraps her hand around his cock but can't quite form a circle. He's too thick and her hand is too small. She begins to jerk him roughly. It almost hurts but that just makes it better.

He reaches back and grabs on to the headboard with a moan. Heat pools in his belly and he closes his eyes, twitching up into her grip. Shameful sounds he can't control start pouring from him. Little groans and sighs. His face is hot and flushed with pleasure. She starts to rub the pad of her thumb in tight circles at the base of his cock head. He whines embarrassingly and jerks his hips.

"Stace, this is gonna go awfully quick if you keep doing that." He pants. He opens his eyes in time to catch a mischievous grin flit across her face.

She backs up and leans down, popping the head of his cock into her mouth. He moans brokenly and resists the urge to move his hips. She takes him in further. So hot and wet. She takes long, repeated strokes up the shaft, punctuated with swirls over the head. He realizes with a start that he really is going to come any second.

"Oh, fuck. Wait, _wait."_ He cries out.

She pulls off him and looks up curiously. He pants hard and tries to collect himself. It's been an _awfully_ long time since anyone did that. The sensations are so intense.

"I'm sorry." He wishes he weren't so sensitive, but he is.

"Don't worry so much. You're fine." She says with a reassuring smile.

She sits up and hikes her leg over him. She thrusts forward and rubs her pussy lips over his cock. Fuck, she is _so wet_. A few rolls of her hips and his cock is positively drenched. She lines him up against her and he looks up at her hesitantly.

"I'm on the pill." She pants, impatiently rocking against him.

"I had a vasectomy, so I think we're pretty well-covered. But I don't know if…" He closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath. Part of him hopes she reconsiders and tells him to leave.

Her hand settles over his heart.

"Mike." He opens his eyes and forces himself to look at her. "Mike, please."

He exhales hard and nods. She lines him up again and brings her hips down slowly. She winces a little and pants harder. He rests his hands on her hips and watches raptly. She presses down a little harder and hisses softly as the head of his cock pushes past the tight ring of muscle inside her. He watches his cock slowly disappear until she takes him up to the hilt. He groans. She's impossibly warm around him and all he wants to do is fuck up into her as hard as he can, but he doesn't want to hurt her.

"Oh _baby_ , you feel so good." He smiles up at her for a moment before he realizes he spoke out loud. He clears his throat and hopes she lets it go.

"You can call me baby, I don't mind." She says in a low voice as she slowly raises her hips. "I like it actually."

A whine slips from his lips as she starts to fuck herself on him, picking up speed. He grips her hips tighter with trembling hands and tilts his head back with a long moan, baring his throat to her. She takes it as an invitation, like he hoped she would, and leans down to press kisses over his Adam's apple and down over his collarbone.

She lays her head on his shoulder and pants open-mouthed against his neck. She plants one elbow beside his head and feathers her fingers over his earlobe. He closes his eyes and swallows hard, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips.

"Just fuck me already." She whispers.

That's hard to argue with. He thrusts up into her and is gratified by the soft moan she makes against his neck. He slides his hands up her back and embraces her. She fits in his arms perfectly and, at least for the moment, she's his. He turns his head and draws her into a kiss.

He fucks up into her slow and hard, pressing all the way inside before pulling out again. Her little moans and sighs egg him on. The warmth and weight of her body on him feels wonderful. He thrusts up into the tight, wet heat of her faster and faster, groaning loudly into her mouth.

Their kisses get sloppy. Hot, wet swipes of tongue against tongue, against lips, against jaws. She pushes back to meet his thrusts and cries out. He's getting so close now. He breaks away from the kiss and presses his lips to the soft, warm skin of her neck.

"Ahh, honey..." He murmurs against her. "Baby, you're gonna make me come."

She makes a happy sound and brings her hips down harder. She pushes herself back up and braces her hands on either side of his head.

"Come for me." She puts her hands on his chest and closes her eyes, riding him even harder.

That's it for him. He pulls her hips down and comes deep inside her with a long, low groan.

She opens her eyes and smiles down at him as he relaxes beneath her, slowly coming down off the high of his orgasm. He doesn't want to rest yet though. He wants to return the favour.

He guides her gently off him and sits up.

"Lay down Stace, I wanna make you feel good."

She does, and grins as she wipes sweat from her forehead.

"You already have."

He laughs softly and settles on his elbows between her thighs, letting his feet hang over the edge of the bed.

He looks down at her beautiful pussy and watches his semen leak slowly from her. She looks amazing. He leans down and slides two fingers inside her. She sighs softly and twitches her hips. He catches her gaze and holds it as he leans down and drags the flat of his tongue over her clit. She shudders and moans. He brings his other hand up to her hip and encourages her to rock into him as he licks her.

She wraps her legs around his shoulders and lets her head fall back with a sigh, slowly rolling her hips and crying out softly as he licks and sucks. She grips the headboard and holds tight as she trembles.

He dips his tongue further down and her eyebrows raise in surprise. His semen is slightly bitter, and it just turns him on more. He withdraws his fingers and spreads her open before delving into her with his tongue, groaning softly. She rocks into him and rubs her clit over his nose.

He watches her eyes fall closed and her brow pinch in concentration as she rolls her hips into him. She begins to ramble to herself, quiet half-phrases under her breath, and in a way, he's grateful he can't understand them. Something about it feels private, not meant for his ears.

She frames his face with her hands and hooks her fingers behind his ears, pulling him into her movements. He's growing a bit faint from lack of oxygen. He pulls his tongue out and takes a few breaths. He licks over the length of her and sucks her clit, playing over it with the tip of his tongue.

Her eyes pinch closed tighter, and her mouth hangs open loosely. She holds his ears so firmly it begins to hurt. She must be close. She cries out sweetly and bites her lip. He smiles and holds on tight to her hips, moving his tongue faster and groaning into her. She tenses up and goes still before releasing in a shuddering cry.

" _Oooh, Matty!"_ She moans and trembles in his hands.

A low hum begins to build in his head, and it occurs to him how wrong this is. How _disgusting_ he is. He makes a choked, distressed sound and pushes away from her. She opens her eyes and reaches out for him. Her mouth is moving, but he can't hear a thing over the blood rushing in his ears. He backs away and unsteadily plants his feet on the floor, searching desperately for his discarded clothes.

He finds them and starts pulling them on, ignoring her while she clutches at him desperately. He doesn't bother with the buttons. He needs to get the fuck out of here. He's vaguely aware of a flash of white as Stacey tugs her nightgown on. He pushes past her out of the bedroom and heads to the front door where he pulls on his shoes and grabs his coat.

The hum starts to ebb, and he can hear her at his heels as he turns the knob on the front door. She's crying.

"Mike, I'm sorry." She covers his hand with hers.

He yanks his hand away. He can't stand any contact with her. He's done enough damage already. He turns to face her, and she regards him, wild-eyed. He gives her a stern glare while the tightness in his chest threatens to rip him apart.

"This _never happened._ " He heads out the door and swings it shut behind him before she has a chance to respond. The cool night air hits his face and for a moment he thinks he might vomit.

Through a blur, he finds himself in his car. He turns the key in the ignition and pulls away as though on autopilot. He feels strangely separate from his own body, like he's watching someone else's hands on the wheel. He only makes it a few blocks away before tears cloud his vision and he has no choice but to pull over.

He rests his forehead on the steering wheel and watches his tears fall silently. He can still taste her. He raises a trembling hand to his mouth and finds he's covered in their mixed fluids. He begins to sob and wipes his mouth with the soft cotton of his undershirt. He turns off the headlights and kills the engine to avoid drawing attention to himself.

He can still feel the ghost of her on his lips and the warmth of her embrace. How could something that felt so good be so wrong? But of course it's wrong, she's his son's widow. Matty would _despise_ him for this. He gasps between sobs. The smell of her is everywhere, permeating his skin. He breathes in deeper and thinks of how alone he'll feel once he washes her scent away.

He cries until his sobs become hoarse and faint, and he finally regains some control over himself. He tightens his grip on the wheel until the blood drains from his fingers and the veins in his wrists pop out grotesquely.

He thought he already hit rock bottom, but it turns out he had so much further left to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the people who encouraged me back when I first mentioned I was writing this and all along the way. Big thanks especially to the person who brought the ship to my attention. You all know who you are and I appreciate you 💕
> 
> The title of this fic is from the song _The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore_ by The Walker Brothers.
> 
> Thanks for reading 🥰 Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> Check out [my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallVictories/profile).


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